


Not Wrong

by ladyhoneydarlinglove



Category: Temeraire - Naomi Novik
Genre: M/M, Minor Spoilers, takes place during blood of tyrants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-23
Updated: 2014-01-23
Packaged: 2018-01-09 19:28:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1149904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyhoneydarlinglove/pseuds/ladyhoneydarlinglove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of finding Tharkay, Laurence and Temeraire have a discussion about whom is most deserving of his affections.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Wrong

**Author's Note:**

> So after The Big Gay Moment, I couldn't help but wonder if part of Temeraire's aversion to marriage is because he knows Tharkay is head-over-heels for Laurence. And then this happened.

“Laurence, are you quite alright?” came Temeraire’s rumbling voice from just beyond the tent flap, and Laurence, seated next to the sleeping Tharkay in silent vigil, started.

“Yes, my dear, I am fine,” he answered. “I was only waiting to make sure Tenzing fell asleep so he might get some rest before we leave tomorrow; it is very difficult to relax when one is injured so. But don’t fret, I will be out in a moment.”

“Oh no, I didn’t mean you ought to leave, Laurence,” Temeraire said. “I only wanted to make sure you were comfortable. Of course you must stay with Tharkay.”

Laurence paused. “You are not jealous?” he asked.

“Whyever would I be?” Temeraire responded, his great blue eyes blinking curiously.

“Well—That is to say—You had seemed so miffed upon finding out about my visits with Mrs. Pemberton, my dear,” Laurence explained, carefully selecting each word so as not to upset Temeraire. “And given our recent argument, I assumed you wished us not to be parted more than absolutely necessary.”

“Well of course I should not wish to be parted from you more than absolutely necessary, but you are only in this tent, and I am outside, so right now we are not parted at all, really,” Temeraire said. “Besides, you are looking after Tharkay, and I should consider myself the worst sort of scrub if I were selfish enough to insist on you coming away now.”

“But—With Mrs. Pemberton—”

“That was because it was Mrs. Pemberton,” Temeraire snorted. “Not that she is not a perfectly lovely person,” he added hastily, at Laurence’s reproachful look, “and she has of course been very good to Roland even if her ideas don’t often sit well. But she is not nearly as deserving of your attention as Tharkay, particularly when she was not injured. Although if you are worried about the future, Laurence, I can assure you that you may stay with Tharkay as long as you please, even when he is well, as long as you are not too terribly far away.” His tendrils dropped slightly, giving the impression of child asking permission for something they knew was not quite proper, though Laurence could not find himself bothered by it.

“Of course I will never stray too far from your side again, my dear, unless I am forced away.” Temeraire brightened, a deep rumble sounding from his chest, almost like a purr. “But what do you mean that Mrs. Pemberton is not as deserving of my attention as Tharkay?”

“Well, Tharkay is injured now, so of course he is more deserving of your attention,” Temeraire said, but Laurence shook his head.

“I mean when he is not injured,” he explained, and Temeraire gave him a rather curious look, much akin to the one he’d had when Laurence could not recall their having been to New South Wales, and Laurence flushed, wondering if he had forgotten something important, though his memoires of Tharkay seemed sharp and clear in his head.

“Why Laurence, do you not remember everything Tharkay has done for us, these past few years?” Temeraire asked. “I suppose you must not, just like you forgot bringing the cure to France and your—That is to say, all of your memories must not be back yet,” he hastily amended, neatly skirting over the subject of Laurence’s treason. “Tharkay has saved our lives several times, and he brought Arkady and all his ferals to Denzig so we could help the Prussians, and—“

“Yes, yes, I remember all of that,” Laurence said patiently, and paused to consider. “I suppose he has done quite a bit for the both of us; of course you should feel a stronger affection towards him than Mrs. Pemberton.”

“Oh yes, I have no trouble admitting that,” Temeraire said, huffing. “Especially after all that awful talk of _marriage_ , which I hope will not be brought up again, now that Tharkay is here; it would be dreadfully rude to dredge it up in front of him, and after all the trouble he has gone to in order to bring us news of Le Grande Armee.”

“What?” Laurence asked, confused. “Why on earth would that be rude?”

“Because it is not fair, of course,” Temeraire answered, as though this were obvious. “To talk of marriage, when Tharkay has done so much more to be deserving of it than anyone else, and yet no one will even entertain the notion because of some silly law that says a man may not love another man. Which is perfectly ridiculous, in my opinion.”

He nodded his great head for emphasis, and Laurence felt himself go scarlet. “Temeraire,” he managed with some difficulty, “are you… Are you suggesting Tharkay and myself ought to be—ought to—that we should _marry_?”

“Certainly not!” Temeraire huffed, and Laurence relaxed, only to be overcome with mortification a moment later when Temeraire continued, “Marriage seems such a silly institution I don’t know why anyone would want to bother with it at all, although if you did have to get married Tharkay is clearly the best choice for a partner, even if he cannot give you any children.”

“Temeraire!” Laurence cried is dismay, but Temeraire ignored him.

“Only consider, Laurence; Tharkay helped us to Istanbul, and then to Prussia, and then he brought a pack of twenty dragons to help England, which seems very much like a dowry to me, if I understand it correctly, even though they were not brought directly for you.” Laurence stuttered, his face a brilliant vermillion now, but Temeraire continued, “And then he helped England repel Napoleon after he invaded, even though he does not like England very much, and he helped train up all the ferals, and then he came with us to New South Wales even though we were being exiled, and now he has come halfway across the world again to help us even though he could easily have stayed in Istanbul, or gone somewhere else, and stayed out of the war altogether.”

“Well, yes, that is all very true,” Laurence admitted, “but—but all of that does not mean we ought to be married, Temeraire!”

“Laurence, you aren’t listening to me; I said I didn’t think you ought to get married at all, because you are an aviator and a captain and you have said yourself it would not be practical in the least for you to marry someone when you will always be with me.” Temeraire shifted, his head coming closer so when Laurence opened his mouth, he was silenced by the meaningful look in Temeraire’s large eyes. “Only consider; Tharkay is a captain as well, and he understands that you and I will always be together, and he doesn’t mind in the least like Mrs. Pemberton might. So you might have an arrangement with him like you did with Admiral Roland. Or, if that doesn’t suit you,” he pressed, when Laurence sputtered, “you could pledge yourselves to one another, like Granby and Little, which is not at all impractical like marriage and if you are very careful no one should even have to know you are breaking the law. You cannot deny he is very devoted to you, Laurence,” Temeraire added, with a hint of reproach in his voice.

Laurence opened his mouth to protest, and then shut it, because this much was true; for all his cloak and dagger antics, there was not a man on this earth Laurence trusted more than Tharkay. And the great lengths to which Tharkay had gone to aid Laurence, when he could, as Temeraire said, just as easily have left, could not be denied. This alone gave Laurence pause. “I am not an invert,” he said slowly, but even as the words tumbled from his mouth, a strong feeling of affection began to bubble in his chest, and Laurence found it familiar. When he glanced at Tharkay’s still form, it grew and spread, and Laurence felt his cheeks begin to heat again as he realized that perhaps this was not the first time he had entertained the lunatic notion of endearment towards Tharkay.

“Of course you are not,” Temeraire said, though not without an edge of skepticism. “But Tharkay clearly cares for you, almost as much as I do, and even if you do not remember, or have never said as much, I know you care very much for him too, Laurence.” Laurence looked at Temeraire to protest, but was silenced by a stern look, and felt very small. “And while I am not necessarily suggesting you ought to do anything about it, considering it is against the law, I do think Tharkay deserves _something_ for all his troubles.”

Laurence found he could not answer. When he did not say anything, Temeraire spoke instead. “I will leave you alone now, so that you may get some rest too. But I will be right outside here, if you should need me, of course.”

“Thank you, my dear,” Laurence replied, and with a last meaningful glance at Tharkay, Temeraire moved away, until Laurence could not longer see his eyes through the tent flap. He stayed still as he listened to Temeraire settle down, staring straight ahead until he was sure Temeraire had begun to doze. Only then did he chance a look at Tharkay, whom, to Laurence’s horror, was looking at him with a half-quirked smile.

“How long have you been awake?” he demanded, scarlet once more.

“Long enough,” Tharkay answered, and closed his eyes, though his smile remained. “He’s not wrong,” he added, and though he did not clarify, Laurence could hardly mistake his meaning. The idea did not seem near as appalling as it should have; in fact, Laurence found himself rather warmed by it, in a foggy, lingering way, much like the lost memories still floating into his consciousness.

“No,” Laurence said slowly. “I suppose he is not.”

Tharkay did not open his eyes, but his smile softened, and he seemed to relax against the cot. Laurence hesitated, and then with a gentle sort of enthusiasm, took one of Tharkay’s battered hands and brought it to his lips. He paused for only a moment before tenderly kissing the back, careful to keep his touch feather light for fear of causing Tharkay any pain. Tharkay’s fingers twitched in response, but besides that, he offered no protest, and Laurence felt himself relax as well, tension he didn’t know he carried dissipating from his muscles.

“Go back to sleep,” he whispered. “You’ll need your strength.”

“You as well,” Tharkay answered, still not opening his eyes. He withdrew his hand from Laurence’s grip and pointedly laid it over his stomach, leaving the space next to his open.


End file.
